TARDIS Tantrum
by Serp
Summary: The Doctor has made a promise, but the TARDIS has other plans. Meanwhile, a girl called Tamsin is having an afternoon nap. Random story I found on my hard drive but it's good enough to put up :


'Ah.'  
>A tall, thin man had just stepped out from behind the shed. He wore a long overcoat, a tight brown suit, sand-coloured trainers and a confused expression. Tamsin stared at him as he began walking down the garden path towards her.<br>'Good afternoon!' he said cheerily. 'If it is the afternoon. I don't suppose you could tell me where I am? I'm the Doctor, by the way. Hello!' He grinned and held out a hand for Tamsin to shake, but she didn't take it. She simply stared at him as if he were a clown on stilts carrying a tray of oysters. She didn't know what to say.  
>Eventually, she managed to stammer: 'Er, excuse me, but this is private property.'<br>'Ah! An American, eh? Or Canadian. I can never tell… Very hot today isn't it? Sun shining. Oh yes! Perfect British weather.' He stuck his hands in his pockets and fidgeted, resting his weight on one foot and then the other.  
>Getting annoyed, Tamsin's brow creased in a frown. 'This is private property!' she repeated. 'What are you doing here?'<br>The Doctor sighed. 'I had a bit of trouble with the spatial parameters before I left and I had to switch off the latitude module. But,' he looked at his wrist as if reading an invisible watch, 'by my calculations it should be July 2012, somewhere near London.' Then he cast an eye around, looking over the garden fence for the familiar red buses and black taxi cabs.  
>Tamsin would have laughed had she not been so annoyed of having her relaxing day ruined by this badly-dressed stranger. He was clearly some kind of maniac, probably homeless and looking for charity. If he hadn't been a doctor she would have asked him to go and find one. 'Right, whatever. Look I'm just gonna call the cops and have you taken away.'<br>The man scratched the back of his head, 'Ye-es. You could do that. Don't talk to strangers and all that - very wise. But, look, I promised someone 23 years ago that I'd be in London to watch him win the Olympics and if I don't turn up... I'll be really embarrassed. Have you ever let a four year-old down before? I can't bear to see him disappointed.'  
>'Are you serious? This is L.A., California. July 2013. You're trespassing on private property and are clearly in need of some psychiatric help or something.'<br>'California? But that's... not London. Oh well, could be worse. I could've ended up live on BBC Sports and then been shown a clip of me watching the race which would mean I'd have to cross my own time line or something - never a good idea. Thanks anyway, I'll just go and adjust the temporality triangulator and I'll be on my way.' And with that, he turned on the spot and walked back down the garden path.  
>Tamsin clambered out of the hammock and ran after him as he disappeared once more behind the shed.<br>'I'm sorry, whoever you are, but -' She stopped mid-sentence and stared. There was a tall, blue, wooden cupboard standing behind the shed. Tamsin was pretty sure that the landscape gardener hadn't included it on his list of features, but there it was. There was a light on top, and the words "POLICE PUBLIC CALL BOX" were written above the rectangular windows in big letters. Of the man there was no sign. Tamsin walked around it, to make sure he wasn't just hiding. 'Hello? This is totally ridiculous. Look, I'm going to call the cops, OK? Hello?'  
>Surely he hadn't disappeared that quickly; she was sure she had only been a few paces behind him. She tried the door of the police box, but it wouldn't budge. She stood back and looked at it again, more closely. Some thing about it felt strange. She touched the door again - more gingerly this time - and felt it vibrate slightly under her fingers. It felt as if she was touching a computer hard drive instead of a wooden door, as if the thing was some kind of machine. Without warning, the light began to fade on and off again, and a noise unlike any she had ever heard began emanating from it: a great wheezing noise, rising and falling. A wind blew up around her, raising pimples on her arms and she kept pushing her hair out of her face. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped with a deep, percussive sound and then silence. She was about to run back into the house when the door was flung open and she found the Doctor peering around the garden again. Apparently he didn't notice she was there, because he yelled, 'Ah hah!' Then his eyes fell on her and his face fell. 'Oh no.' He stepped over the threshold onto the manicured lawn. He turned and looked the box up and down, hands shoved in pockets.<br>'What's up with you?' he said, apparently addressing the box. 'I've done everything I can think of to get you to work. It's not the fluidity distorter or the temporality triangulator, and I'm pretty sure the biolatitundal precipitator isn't playing up. Maybe you just don't like long-distance running, but then I'd have to ask why you've been taking me places where I can't do anything but run long distances for the past 900 years...' He patted the thing fondly.  
>Tamsin was still rooted to the spot. She wanted to get away, but her legs wouldn't let her. Her thumb was still hovering over the call button on her phone, ready to call the L.A.P.D.<br>'If it's all got a bit too much for you I understand,' the Doctor said, still addressing the box. 'It's difficult never knowing whether I'm going to come back or not, and I'm sorry for leaving you on that desert planet, but how was I to know the nearest natives were fifty trillion light years away? When they offered me a lift I was just expecting a two hour bus ride instead of spending two months aboard an Archenon LiteCruiser. Anyway, space is a big place. You have to expect that kind of thing once in a while.' Unsuprisingly, the box gave no response. The Doctor sighed and turned to Tamsin.  
>'Sorry, looks like it'll be a bit more difficult to leave than I thought. Best leave it alone for a while. I don't suppose you could make me a cuppa? I'm parched.'<p> 


End file.
